


Kurama's Story: Healer

by Reyka_Sivao



Category: YuYu Hakusho
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-26
Updated: 2012-06-26
Packaged: 2017-11-08 15:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/444752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyka_Sivao/pseuds/Reyka_Sivao
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Everyone knew of his abilities as a fighter and a bandit…but there's another side to Kurama, something that came even earlier. Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kurama's Story: Healer

**Author's Note:**

> Characters: Kurama (Yomi, Kuronue)
> 
> Pairings: None
> 
> Continuity: English anime, manga, second movie.
> 
> Author's note: I probably shouldn't be editing so late, but I needed to do something to stay awake. I don't promise that I won't post a re-edited version later, though. I'm not entirely sure I'm happy with the way it turned out.
> 
> As always, I greatly appreciate having mistakes pointed out so I can fix them. :)

Many people knew of his prowess as a warrior.

Even more knew of his skill as a thief.

Of course they did. There were legends about him, many dating back well over a thousand years, back to when he'd just been starting to become well-known.

But there was another side to Kurama, one that had its start even before that.

He made no particular attempt to hide his skill at healing, but somehow it was a skill that never got much acknowledgment. His friends knew well enough, and more than one of them owed their life to it, but still, even  _they_  thought of him as a fighter, first and foremost, and then as a "reformed thief". (Truly, he wasn't reformed—he simply had changed his targets to ones they agreed with.)

But those skills had taken much time and effort to develop.

Healing, though…that had come first, right from the very beginning of his consciousness.

He could still remember, though the memories were confused and dreamlike.

Green…

That was first thing he could remember. That, he had known from even before the beginning, from even before he had become himself.

Fox demons weren't like other demons.

Other demons started out as children, born to others of their kind.

Fox demons didn't. There were no kitsune children.

He had been, quite simply, a fox.

Not a magical fox. Not a demon. Simply an ordinary fox, born in the human world before the worlds had been separated.

But as he grew older, far past the age that most foxes attained, he had started to gain an awareness of himself as something distinct and unique.

As he approached his hundredth year as a fox, he had also gained that awareness of  _green_.

It grew and grew within him, until it threatened to burst forth in shades of emerald and olive and lime and teal and jade and aquamarine.

Finally, it had grown into a confused swirl, something he could pull no clear memories from at all.

When it passed,  _he_  awoke for the first time.

He looked down at his hands— _he had hands!—_ had touched the silver hair that even then brushed his shoulderblades— _hair, not fur!—_ and had tried to stand for the first time on legs that didn't end in paws.

His body was roughly that of an adolescent, but he combined the awkwardness of a human teen with that of a human toddler, since he was completely unfamiliar with even a bipedal form.

In short, then, a kitsune's transition time was a vulnerable one.

Several nearby low-class demons felt the sudden change in energy, and came in hunt of easy prey.

He had managed to escape them by seeking shelter in a thick thorn bush, but not before suffering a rather nasty gash in his stomach.

Hiding there, he had fallen into a fitful sleep, and as he slept, he dreamed of green.

It was there, all around him, whispering at him in a language that wasn't a language, telling him things by simply letting him  _know_ them.

He asked wordlessly in the same not-language, and the green split out into a million different shades, each unique, each speaking to him in a different voice.

When he woke, he knew what they had been telling him. He could still hear them, if he listened.

He carefully worked his way toward the one he sought, this green so dark that it threatened to turn into black.

Finally he found it, and saw the plant with his eyes, it was like meeting an old friend. Of course he knew it.

He knew all of them.

He could still get to know them better, of course, but he knew, he  _recognized_  every one of them.

This one was offering him aid for his injuries, which he gladly accepted. He took several of its black-green, succulent leaves, and squeezed them into a paste for the gash on his side. He found another plant that offered its long, wide leaves as makeshift bandages, and then crawled back to the sanctuary of his protective thorn bush.

That was how it started.

He learned from the plants, sought their aid whenever he was hurt. It was only later that he realized that they would come to his aid to fight for him or defend him, or really with any task he required.

He offered his newfound skills in trade to others. Demons of all sorts were willing to trade whatever he needed—food, shelter, protection—for his services as a healer. Some had nothing that he truly needed, but were willing to part with shiny baubles that caught his fancy.

He could always tell what was needed for each case—which particular plants would provide what this particular injury or illness required. Indeed, injuries were easy—they were all very similar, unless they became infected, in which case they slid into the category of illness.

He grew to enjoy the challenge of finding a cure for a tricky illness, and eventually found that the same was true of finding the antidotes to poisons. It was like a game, matching opposites to opposites, and he became very good at it indeed.

However, the right plants didn't always grow right at hand. He took to keeping seeds of the rarer plants in his inventory with him, learning that he could use his energy to grow them out for use in whatever he needed. (It took him a longer time to learn how to shrink them back into seed form, which helped a lot, since a single seed could serve him for a very long time.)

He found that his particular skill set was very much in demand. It earned him more than one temporary spot in different groups. Most of these were low-level groups of thieves, and it was here that the great Youko Kurama got his start.

That was what he called himself, now. Youko was the first thing he was called, but even at the beginning he knew that it was not his name. It was simply a label born of convenience, since he was quite obviously a spirit fox.

Still, it took him some time to find his true name. He had tried on many names, discarding each in his head without ever speaking it aloud. He had very nearly resigned himself to being called "Youko" for the rest of his unearthly long life when the band he was travelling with decided to take a trip to Mount Kurama.

_Kurama_.

From the moment he heard it, he knew it was him. He'd found his name at last.

He waited to use it, though, until he parted ways with that group and went on to join another. There, he introduced himself as Kurama for the first time.

By that time, he was well on his way to mastering the use of plants offensively as well, so he offered his services to this new group as both healer and fighter.

It was here that he finally made himself a home. He was finally on equal footing, rather than being a protectorate who was kept around for his usefulness.

This group, like most of the others he'd been in, was made up of thieves. He was more than able to prove his worth to them, being (as a fox) naturally good at sneaking, and having learned fine manipulation of plants—he could lift an object silently through a window without even being in the room. Or if there was no conveniently open window, he could pick locks. He could even manipulate dead wood: he could open up a hole in a wooden door, retrieve whatever he wished, and then walk back out and return the door to normal behind him, leaving only the faintest trace of his energy to mark his passing.

In this way, he became one of the most valued members of the group, so he stayed on. But, since contributed to the group by fighting and stealing, he only occasionally had the chance to exercise his healing ability.

He stayed, indeed, until most of the other members were newer than he was, the others having left or died in the meantime.

By this time, he was powerful indeed, and, with one more death, he became their undisputed leader.

Youko Kurama's gang grew in notoriety, far outpacing any stories from before he had become their leader.

Years passed, and the worlds changed.

The worlds were divided further than before. It became more and more difficult to pass between them, but it was still possible for those who were determined enough.

The last straw was the Kekkai Barrier.

After that, no one of any real strength could reach the Human World.

For Kurama, though, this mattered little. He had long since abandoned the living world, and the Makai held more than enough unstolen treasures to last him a lifetime.

Or so he thought.

The challenges lasted him a long time, true. He steadily grew richer and more powerful as the years, and then the centuries, passed. He had a bit of a difficult period when the upstart Yomi managed to lose him many of his best men through impulsiveness and defiance—he'd eventually had to get rid of him before the whelp could destroy him—but really, that didn't set him back for long. He was too good for that.

It had been some time after that before he'd accepted a true second in command after that. He was unwilling to put so much trust in a single person after the last fiasco, so he managed all his subordinates directly.

That went on for a long time—until he made the mistake of making a friend.

Kuronue had started out as simply being one of his subordinates. He just had certain skills that Kurama lacked, including the ability to take to the air (as he hadn't yet obtained the seeds to the fabled flying plants of demon world), as well as a sensitivity to energy signatures that surpassed even his own.

So Kurama came to rely more and more on Kuronue's abilities, and then on Kuronue himself. He proved himself everything Yomi hadn't been: loyal, reliable, patient, and willing to avoid confrontation.

So they had become partners in crime, leading their merry band of thieves on many a glorious heist.

There was nothing in all the Makai that was safe from their prying fingers.

At least, not until one treasure cost them far more than it could ever be worth.

What it was didn't matter much to them—it was just another shining gold king's toy, one that had no clear purpose. What  _did_  matter was well-guarded and challenging to get at.

And it  _was_  challenging. There were many traps to get past, many lock to undo, many guards to outwit.

But they did it. They got past them all, and emerged triumphant from the vault.

Triumphant, but not unnoticed.

Something, Kurama never knew what, had alerted the guards to their presence. They had pursued them as they raced through the vault, trying to catch the pair as they escaped. When they had reached the gates, the duo's sense of triumph had been incredible…but premature.

The guards were still chasing them, trying to kill the intruders and take back what was theirs. They threw spears at them, spears made of Makai bamboo—incredibly sharp and hard as iron.

Kurama's fox's speed and agility let him easily dodge every strike.

Kuronue opened his wings and sprinted to take off into the air—

One of the spears tore through his calf.

He stumbled and fell, unable to attain the lift he so desperately needed.

Kurama turned back in horror, unable to take in what he was seeing as another dozen spears found their marks in his friend's body.

After those few, horrible seconds of absolute clarity, everything blurred.

The only thing that was clear to him was his best friend's last words ringing in his ears.

"Kurama,  _run!_ "

* * *

The next thing he was aware of was collapsing in the forest, still clutching the golden treasure. He hadn't even realized he was running.

He looked numbly down at the golden thing. Suddenly it seemed heavy and dull and utterly pointless.

With a cry that was equal parts rage and desperate grief, Kurama flung the thing away from himself.

There was no way he would ever touch the thing again.

* * *

He left that forest a changed man.

His love of a good challenge changed into a terrible focus, a  _need_  for something to concentrate all his abilities on. No longer did he use his abilities to work out antidotes or cures, either—now, he was completely consumed in committing the perfect crime.

No treasure could satisfy him. Sometimes he even gave them away. He didn't care anymore.

His reputation grew—they said that there was no treasure in all demon world that was safe from the great Youko Kurama once he set his sights on it….and they were probably right.

There were no more problems, no more challenges that he could focus on.

And that was unacceptable.

He sought long and hard for a prize that would actually give him a run for his money.

Finally, he found one.

But not in demon world.

He discovered that if he reverted to his fox form (a trick he had discovered but never had any use for), his energy signature was low enough for him to slip through the Kekkai Barrier.

And if he could make it out of Demon World, he could make it  _in_ to Spirit World.

So he set his sights on the most powerfully guarded place in any of the three worlds: the deepest vaults of King Enma.

He didn't even have a target. He didn't care  _what_  he stole—he only wanted to prove that he could.

He made it in unnoticed, and looked for something to steal.

He never did get a chance to choose.

The Spirit Defense Force caught on to him, and he was forced to flee.

He was hit with an attack—in his normal form, he hardly would have noticed, but in this form, it was almost enough to kill him outright.

In desperation, he did the only thing that made sense to him at the time: he launched himself out of his broken body.

He wasn't even sure how he did it. He'd never done anything of the sort before, but now he found himself fleeing his would-be captors in spirit form.

But without a body to contain his energy, it faded fast. It would be long, wouldn't be long now before they caught him…threw him into the depths of Spirit World prison, if they didn't destroy him outright…

NO!

He threw himself forward, towards the one speck of hope that presented itself to him: a tiny crack in the barrier of reality between spirit world and human world.

A portal.

His fading spirit-self slipped through the crack, and escaped.

* * *

His tiny amount of luck held true.

Not far from where he found himself when he entered human world, he came across a woman whose body carried a dead fetus.

It had only just died, and so the fox was able to use the very last of his available energy to repair the body enough to house him.

It was pathetic.

He, the great Youko Kurama, reduced the status of a human. A human  _child_.

He had  _never_  been a child.

His fighting skills were gone, his energy was miniscule, he could barely even  _move_.

And worst of all, the green, the wonderful essence of  _life_  that had surrounded him from his first moment of awareness, was gone.

He had no idea how much he'd come to rely on its continued presence. Its sudden absence reminded him of those times he'd used it to its fullest extent, rather than simply letting it remain as a comforting background presence, as he'd done of late. He swore he wouldn't make that mistake again.

But for that, he would have to wait for his energy to return, would have to let that awareness slowly build up again.

It was going to be a long wait.

He let his consciousness fade into sleep, and as he slept, he dreamed of green.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: Hope you enjoyed! For the record, the hundred-year-fox thing is canon in the manga. Most of the other details I made up.


End file.
